Counting My Zeros
by CyberShockwave
Summary: We all make choices. Sometimes, the effects of those choices don't become known until long after we've made them, well past the point of correcting any mistakes that arise. Why did my decisions make me a threat to the worlds fiercest Air Force? Why did they empower a global terrorist organization? Why did they push away a friend? Is it too late for me to make a change?
1. Narwhal's In The Desert

**AN: ... Hey. So, here we are again, at the start of a journey that takes place in the awesome world of Strangereal. This novelization will cover the events leading up to and covering the Belken war. I really hope you enjoy what I've got in store for you all, I know I've enjoyed the time I've taken writing what's here so far. So, without further delay, I give you the first chapter of Counting My Zeros.**

 **Narwhal's In The Desert**

"Your results are most pleasing, as well as surprising," the Prince in front of me said with his strange accent that seemed to make him sound like a snake. "If you had asked me three months ago who would've been leading our Air Force against the Sect of Ulijusy, my last answer would've been two mercenary pilots."

"And if you had asked me three months ago where I planed on being, my last answer would've been the Prince's Palace," I replied, gesturing to the luxurious open air dwelling we were currently speaking in. The prince followed my gesture with his eyes, a smile growing on his face as a soft chuckle escaped his mouth.

"Yes, well, I think we can both agree that things worked out for the better." I nodded and took a sip of water from the bronze goblet I had been offered. A slight warm and arid breeze came up from the bay we were overlooking. The Prince looked behind him catching the attention of one of the many black suited, armed guards stationed all over the Palace. After a subtle head movement, the guard came to our table with a silver platter that had nothing but a manila folder on it. I nearly shook my head at the opulent display, but doing so would've been an offense punishable by… whatever the Prince felt like doing, probably.

"We are close to smothering these blasphemers, Takuma. I can feel it with the air I breath during my morning prayers. Our scouts have tracked the remaining resistance to an outpost in Naseem. They have only a fragmented force now and our latest reports say they have only six functioning fighters. But there are also murmurs among the locals of Naseem that they've managed to hire a mercenary group of their own with what little funds they have left."

That got me to put down my bronze cup.

"Do you know what group?" I asked. Sure, me and Larry were one of the best merc groups out there, but we were just two pilots. There are limits to what two people can do against six well trained adversaries.

"I'm sorry, but our scouts were unable to discover the identity of the group."

"I'm sure they'll fall like the rest," I responded, quick to maintain the image of superiority the Prince seemed to think I earned.

"But of course," the man replied with a large grin. It was one of the more… troubling features this countries leader had. He was no older than twenty seven and his child like fascination with war was disturbing. As soon as Larry and I had collected our final check from the Sotoa Prince, I would make it a point to stay out of the entirety of the Far West, its back stabbing culture making me too paranoid to make the lucrative money worth it.

"This folder contains all the intelligence we have for the mission we'll be conducting five hours from now. I'll leave it in your possession so you can prepare yourself and your partner for the final strike against those who deviate from the One True Way."

I bowed as I picked up the folder and stood up from the table.

"Thank you, Prince Jamaal. May He smile upon you," I replied, using the phrase I had been told to use every time I left the presence of the Prince.

"Raise your head," the Prince replied with an all too jovial smile. "For He smiles upon us both on this day."

Once I had left the over-bearing gates of the Palace, I released a sigh of breath that I had been holding since entering. Sotoa was about as lawless as the world got, promising both riches and death in equal measure. Larry had been the one who selected this job, constantly bringing up the ludicrous pay off. At first, I had though the amount to be a hoax, no one paid that much for mercenary pilots. But then they gave us the advance. Even though it was only twenty five percent of the total, it was more than our last four jobs put together. But with that one payment, we were essentially imprisoned until we completed our end of the deal. One doesn't steal from the Prince of Sotoa, after all. If they do, the tend to die… very slowly.

"What did the Boss have to say?" Larry asked casually from the shade of a building he was leaning against just outside the gate, bringing a welcome end to my morbid thoughts.

"Baka!" I replied quickly and harshly with wide eyes, quickly looking around to see if anyone had heard Larry's insult to the Prince. "Do you realize what could happen to us if the right people heard you say that?"

"Oh, come on man. The dude practically thinks we're his bros! He wont let anything happen to us and I'm sure he'd like the name anyways," Larry said waving his hand dismissively at my very real concerns. This was why I always insisted on meeting the Prince myself despite my aversion to the young man. "What's in the folder?"

"Intel," I replied simply as I turned and left Larry leaning on his wall. I had only been outside the Palace's shade for fifteen minutes and already my clothes were beginning to be drenched in sweat. Another reason to leave and never come back the Far West.

"Aw, come on, Umi!" Larry shouted after me.

"I told you to stop using that name."

"Aw, come on Umi, don't be so cold."

"Trust me, I'm not. This heat is horrible. Besides, just because some locals can't say my name right doesn't mean you have to join in with them. You were perfectly capable of saying it right before we came to this place."

"Man, if I had known this place would put such a large stick up your ass, I wouldn't have chosen it," Larry complained as he came up and walked at my side.

"Liar," I quickly replied.

"Got me," my friend quickly admitted. "Too much money not to choose it."

"Well if the mission goes right today, we'll finally have the rest of all that money and be gone by midnight."

"Wait… For real?" Larry asked, breaking his laid back attitude for a moment and grabbing my shoulders in excitement. "You're not shitting me?"

"Five hours from now, the Prince will have us engage the last of the Sect of Ulijusy over Naseem," I began, failing to keep my smile from showing with Larry's excitement finally infecting me.

"YES!" Larry shouted, making a noise of euphoric joy that the Prince back at the Palace probably heard. "GOD, it's been forever since I've been this happy for something," Larry said as he regathered himself.

"Yes, I think that's an accurate statement," I replied as I removed myself from Larry's grasp and continued towards the airfield the Prince had given us to use just outside the city.

"Aw, come on man," Larry said, once again joining my side. "At least act a little excited. Don't you miss normal food?"

"… Some good pizza would be nice."

"Right!? And how about those fancy toilets and showers we used to use? Do you miss those?"

"Larry, I miss plain old clean water," I admitted, finally letting his over exaggerated attitude wear off on me. It had been too long since we had just goofed off like this, the conservative society of the country we were in preventing such frivolities.

"I know!" Larry said, his smile only growing as I joined in with him. "But man, the one thing that's been killing me has been the-"

"Women," I finished for him. There were strict rules for the women here, and most of them involved them being kept out of sight or covered up if they had to go out. It did things to a man's mind, not being able to see more than a woman's eyes for months.

"Don't worry. Once we leave this place, we'll find some nice Brasalium girls," Larry said while looking longingly at the sky.

"You're overly fascinated with the women from that country," I said, laughing a bit at my wing mates expression.

"Hey, they're shapely and tan."

As we came on base, I saw another one of Larry's 'types'. This woman had been taken with Larry as soon as we had entered the gentleman's club on the outskirts of the city near the airfield. She was one of the belly dancers that the joint seemed to pride themselves on, and she always seemed to be waiting for Larry whenever we came back from a meeting with the Prince. I rolled my eyes as Larry went over to speak with her and made my way towards the barracks he and I were using.

As soon as I walked into the small brick room, I turned on the ancient looking air-conditioner, praying it would last just a couple more hours until we were able to leave. I opened up the folder the Prince had given me earlier and read over all the information that was available. I had to hand it to this guys scouts, for not having the technology that some countries had, they had very detailed reports of troop movement and strength. I looked at the photos of the enemy air units, trying to see if I could get any hint as to who this rival mercenary group we would be faceing might be. The only thing I had to go off of was a picture of a narwhal on the tail fins of six enemy aircraft, MiG-29's by the looks of it. After staring at the photo for ten minutes, I finally leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. Staring wouldn't let me know who they were. We'd just have to go in and hit them hard and fast like we always did and hope it'd be enough.

I decided to check on our planes, hoping the distraction would be enough to reset my mind and get me ready for the mission. The improvised hangar's for Larry's and my aircraft were basically large semi-circles of corrugated steel. But that was really all that was needed besides the intake and exhaust plugs for this hot and arid environment. I would've preferred a fully enclosed hanger because of all the sand, but with both the plugs and the Prince's diligent mechanics doing their jobs, our planes continued to outperform the rag-tag cult that had risen against the Prince.

I really hadn't bothered myself with the details of this conflict, as was true with most jobs Larry and I took. We were in it for ourselves; After all, governments, no matter how democratic they may be, or claim to be, will always be inherently corrupt. Maybe not every leader is a bad apple, but every barrels got them.

I climbed up into the cockpit of my F-15C, instantly relaxing in the oddly comfortable ejection seat. I pulled a cassette player and head-phones from my pocket and zoned out, letting the rock tunes that I had all but memorized during the last three months block out the noise around me.

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder, jostling the head-phones I had been wearing off of me.

"Ready to go yet?" Larry asked from beside me.

"You?" I replied, wiping my mouth to make sure I didn't drool during my nap.

"Yup. The Prince's guy's are already lining up on the runway. Here," Larry finished, handing me my helmet as I put my cassette player into a tight pocket to keep it from banging around.

"Thanks. Did you read the intel this time?"

"Nope." Larry said as he jumped down and retracted the ladder on the side of my plane, locking it into place.

"You know, one of these days both of us aren't going to read it and we'll get shot down or something."

"Phft, like you could ever _not_ read the mission briefs," Larry yelled with a wave of the hand as he ran off to his plane.

"Whatever," I muttered as I craned my head to see if Larry had taken out my intake and exhaust plugs. Seeing that he had, I reminded myself to get him something good for his birthday this year. I began the start-up of the aircraft and locked down the canopy as my engines roared to life, putting a predatory smile on my face.

"Any problems with start up?" Larry asked over the radio.

"Nah, you?"

"Nope."

"Copy that. Let's roll out."

"After you," Larry replied. If there was one thing I liked about Sotoa, it was that we could taxi whenever we wanted. No control tower or anything telling us what to do. Some might say that's dangerous… and they'd be right. But Sotoa wasn't known as the wild west for nothing. After playing chicken with some planes on the runway, Larry and I were in the air on our way towards Naseem.

"So, what do those Ulijusy people got in store for us today?" Larry asked as he came up on my left wing.

"Apparently they were well funded enough to hire some mercenary pilots in a last ditch effort to put up as much resistance as they could."

"What group?" Larry asked quickly.

"Don't know. All the scouts were able to find out was that the planes were MiG-29's with a narwhal on their tail fins."

"…"

"Larry? Do you know who they-"

"HA-HA-HA!" I winced as Larry's voice filled my radio channel. "Fricken' narwhal's! Who fricken' chooses narwhal's as a symbol?! You're joking, right? And they're in the middle of a fricken desert!"

"Yeah, well, regardless of what their symbol is, they're still flying six Fulcrum's," I said, trying to keep a straight face. Now that Larry was bringing it up, it was sort of funny.

"Right, right… it's just… they really got narwhal's?" Larry asked as he calmed down a little.

"Yeah," I said simply, shaking my head a little as the man breathed deeply to calm down a little more.

"I can't wait to see these guys. Narwhal's. That's going in the book."

"What book?" I asked as the sun continued to sink. It would still be four hours till sunset, but with each minute, the sun became more and more of an obstacle to any possible dogfight. With no clouds in the dry sky, our enemies were likely to utilize our closest star as much as we were to conceal themselves from visual contact.

"It's a journal of sorts. I keep all our important accomplishments in it. Dificult enemies we've fought, rich people we've made happy, rich people we've pissed off, countries we're heroes in and countries were banned from. Got a note or two in there about which places have the best ladies."

"Sounds like quite the compilation."

"Yeah, been thinking about selling it to World Traveler or something." Larry and I continued to chat all the way to our mission area, we always had been pretty talkative before missions. And during them. And after… we always had been pretty talkative. Which was strange, for me at least. Part of the reason me and Larry were friends was because of how un-talkative I could be.

Growing up, I had been pretty ostracized because of my islander heritage and the Belken's general dislike of anyone not Belken. Despite his aristocratic family background, Larry was the first person to ever really do more than sneer at me. We were both crazy about flying, becoming members of a gliding club a local airport had. By the time we were legally able to do so (and a little before), we were piloting powered aircraft like we had been born inside them. We promised each other to make it into the Flugmeister Akademien together, constantly pushing each other to be the best we could be in all thing pertaining to getting into the prestigious school. We both had top marks in school and were some of the most physically fit people in our neighborhood. But when the acceptance letters finally came, only one of us, Larry, got accepted.

Surprising nearly everyone, including me to an extent, Larry had rejected the acceptance to the pilot school, saying he wouldn't be part of a school that discriminated based on race. With his family's ties to Gründer and his inheritance, he was able to get two F-15C's straight from the aircraft manufacturer and we had flown together since.

"Coming into mission airspace," Larry announced with a hint of anxiousness. "Friken' Narwhal's man, I can't wait."

"Galm team, this is Molvic team leader of his-"

"Yeah, we got it, you're with us. Get to the point."

"… Scout's reported that there are only two anti-air positions and any SAM's will be shoulder launched."

"Copy that, Molvic lead. Pixy and I will try and take out those enemy planes before they can take off and deal with any that manage to get into the air."

"Understood," responded the allied craft. Four Mirage III aircraft broke off from Larry and I and went to engage any significant ground resistance. As we came closer to where the six Fulcrum's were supposed to be, I felt more and more excited. Every time I fought was when I felt the most alive. When every sense was heightened to a point where you thought you were superhuman. Added to that was the knowledge that after this mission, Larry and I would finally get to leave and return to civilization.

"You ready?" Larry asked me, reeling me back in.

"Let's do this." We dropped our altitude to under five hundred feet, getting ready to come over a large hill and wreak havoc on any parked planes that would be at the airfield ahead in a surprise attack. However, the only thing on the other side of the hill was an empty airfield occupied with at least ten anti-air batteries.

"SHI-" I shouted before cutting myself off with a sharp break, barely missing the hundreds of rounds that came flying at me.

"What the hell?!" Larry yelled out as we darted in and out of streams of tracer fire.

"What is this?! There wasn't supposed to be that many batteries! And where are those fricken' Fulcrums?!" I shouted at my radar. Suddenly, my HUD lit up with lock on warnings.

"Found the Fulcrums!" Larry shouted over a similar wine in the background of his transmission. I repressed the urge to respond as I focused on maneuvering out of my crappy position. Low altitude was great for surprise attacks, but when the enemy had the jump on you, nape of the earth maneuvering tended to result in dead pilots. I pulled back on the flight stick, engaging the Eagles powerful after-burners to gain some altitude and speed. As I rocked around in my rocket, I looked around for some Narwhal's. I quickly found them, three behind me and three chasing down Larry a couple thousand feet away.

"Larry, I'm coming to sanitize your six."

"Copy, I'll be glad to return the favor as soon as I can." I pulled back on my stick some more, coming to an inverted flight towards the enemy. I let off the throttle just enough to cut the after-burner in an effort to conserve some fuel and armed my Phoenix missiles, trying to get a solid lock as I maneuvered out of the path of bullets coming from both the ground and the enemy planes behind me. As soon as I heard the solid tone, I launched the missiles.

"Phoenix missiles on your way," I shouted as I pulled away from my three pursuers.

"Two down," Larry called out, his alarm still going off in the background. "Third guy got out of the way. He's on his way towards you, but so am I. Hold on."

"Don't really got a choice," I replied, grunting as I pulled out of a steep dive that brought me back below a thousand feet. "Gah, that was close," I muttered as I cut out of the way of more tracer rounds coming from the runway.

"Keep stringing them along, I've almost got a lock."

"Hurry up with it," I whined as cannon rounds continued to come close to my aircraft.

"Phoenix missiles launched," Larry shouted as I pulled back up into the sky. "Damn, that Narwhal's no slouch," Larry muttered.

"How many are left?" I asked checking my radar as I asked.

"One, and he's the same guy who avoided you're volley."

"Let's tag team him and get this done with," I suggested, forming up with Larry as the enemy pilot circled back around for an attack of his own.

"Got it. You go high, I'll go low. I'll initiate and you get lined up."

"Uhn," I agreed. We accelerated towards the approaching Fulcrum, splitting our separate ways as soon as the guy began firing his cannon. As I continued to fly straight, Larry circled around to begin following the MiG. After a couple of seconds of holding my flight path, I too began to circle back around and look for the two pilots.

I wasn't alone in terms of feeling alive in combat. It was another reason me and Larry got along so well. We were both addicted to the same drug. I watched as he followed the closely matched Fulcrum, their movements like a fox chasing a rabbit in the slowly reddening sky. Every change in direction the MiG executed was mirrored with finesse by Larry's Eagle. Every so often, a few bright streaks would flare from just behind the cockpit of Larry's plane to just skim past the Fulcrum, disappearing into the sky far beyond. I nearly didn't hear when Larry called me in to finish up the job.

"Damn, he's too all over the place. Takuma, give him everything you've got that can track him."

"Purging payload," I responded, arming all the missiles my aircraft was loaded with and launching them simultaneously. The MiG quickly banked right temporally forgetting about Larry. Larry just let the guy try and shake the missiles while he set himself up for a better shot.

"There we go," Larry muttered as he found his optimal firing position and let his cannon fill the plane with holes before my barrage of missiles came in and obliterated the plane. I could hear Larry take in a deep breath of air before releasing it in a satisfactory sigh. "Now that… was a good way to end this trip."

"Agreed. Now, let's get back, collect, refuel, and go home," I responded, making our heading for the airfield we had been stationed at for the past three months.

"Galm, this is Molvic lead. Has the Narwhal group been dealt with?"

"Let's just say Takuma and I may be called whaler's now," Larry replied.

"… I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean."

"The Sect's Air Force has been dealt with. The Narwhal group has been neutralized," I translated for the man.

"Ah, I see. That is most pleasing. The Prince is sure to give praise with this news."

"Yeah, and he'd better give us our remaining seventy five percent too," Larry pointedly reminded.

"Yes, yes, the Prince does not forget those who preserve The Path."

"God," Larry said over the private channel. "I will _not_ miss that either." We landed just as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. The whole airfield was celebrating with cheap Christmas lights hanging all over the place and people smoking exotic substances and drinking alcohol that was too strong for me to even try and sip. Someone brought us into a room that had a working computer to show us that our bank accounts were now significantly larger.

"You ready to get out of here?" I asked Larry as we walked out of the room.

"Yeah, just about. I've got to say… 'goodby' to someone though," Larry replied, waging his eyebrows to let me know what he meant in case I didn't catch his horrible euphemism.

"Every time…" I muttered as he walked off towards where his belly dancer would be. I decided to head over to our planes and make sure they were topped off for our trip to Brasalium. We would still have to top off somewhere in Usea to make the whole trip, but extra fuel never hurt anyone.

Except tonight.

"TAKUMA!"

"Larry?"

"TAKUMA! DISCONNECT THE PLANES FROM THE FUEL!" Larry yelled as he ran full speed at me, moving his hand across his throat like he was decapitating himself.

"What? What do yo-"

"FRICKEN' DISCONNECT THAT SHIT NOW!" My heart began to race I quickly hit the emergency shut off valve and detached the hoses from the fueling ports on the Eagles. Larry didn't once slow down as he rushed through the crowd towards me and hurriedly told me to get into the planes and take off.

"Larry, what's going on?" I asked as soon as my radio was working and I was in my cockpit.

"Uhh… you know that belly dancer?" Larry said distractedly as he frantically switched various interfaces inside his cockpit. Finally, the roar of his plane joined mine as we began to taxi for the runway.

"The one that was always waiting for you?"

"Yeah, yeah her. Well, she was always asking all these weird questions, right?"

"What kind of questions Larry?" I asked, beginning to wonder how any of this was related to us leaving as quickly as we could. It was proving difficult as everyone was trying to get a look at the 'Hands of Destruction,' the name the Prince had given us in honor of destroying the cult that risen against him.

"Oh, you know, stuff like 'where are you going to attack,' and 'where do you get your fuel,'" Larry said nervously as we continued to try and push our planes through the crowds of people who didn't seem to mind standing next to a very loud jet aircraft. I was starting to worry one of them would get sucked into our air intakes when a huge explosion came from behind us. Where the refueling station had once been was now a mass of bright orange flames with thick, heavy black smoke.

"BAKA!" I yelled out as I realized what was going on. "BAKA, BAKA, BAKA, BA-"

"I KNOW! NOW LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Larry shouted as he finally gave up on the people in front of us and throttled aggressively, scaring the people who were still around away from our aircraft. As Larry and I hurriedly made our hasty take off, more explosions began to go off all around the city. Just as we climbed to three thousand feet, a massive detonation went off about where the Prince's Palace ought to have been. My heart was still pounding as Larry and I just circled around the bay twice and wordlessly made our way towards Amber in Usea.

"That's going in the book," Larry said after a long while.

"I won't need a book to remember that," I said after a while. Slowly, we worked ourselves into a nervous chuckle that allowed us to release some of the tension from the intensity we had just escaped.

 **AN: And there you have it, the Belly Dancer story from CotS's epilogue explained. I always planed on using that story to start this book and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Tell me what you guy's think so far! What are you looking forward to? As always, stay... exemplary!**


	2. Taking Life by the Horns

**AN: So, a little info on dates and stuff. The following chapter takes place in the last few days of November 1985. I've decided that Pixy and Cipher's birthdates will differ from cannon, but only slightly. Pixy's given date is 1967, but I've moved it back to 1962 which in this continuity, is the year Cipher was born as well. This makes the two of them freshly minted 23 year olds (yes, I know you all** ** _could_** **do the math but I like helping my readers every now and again). Why make them five years older? Because 18 is too young and 23 isn't, because I need them to have been mercenaries for a while already and because I kinda need them to be in Ustio in the mid eighties. Why? Who know's Kei's birth-year? (Hint: 1987. Yeah, you could've looked that up too, but as I've said, I like helping you out.) Who knows what happens before a kid is born? And don't get perverted about it!**

 **Now, I know some of you have probably jumped on ahead and done more math without my help, but in case you haven't, being born in 1962 makes Larry a whoping 48 years old in 2010 when he's helping out Blaze in Citizen of the Sky (I guess he ages well or something, huh?). Is it realistic? Maybe not. Possible? Yes. Does it matter? That's a question that depends on you. However you answer it, I hope you enjoy this next installment. See you at the bottom!**

 **Taking Life by the Horns**

"Torero squadron, this is Galm one. What's you're situation?" I waited a few more seconds as Larry and I flew towards where the flight had last reported in. There had been reports that the Belken Hegemony was finally starting to lend a hand to it's southeastern most protectorate, Ustio, but confirmation had been sketchy. Sapin, interested in seeing how much land they could get away with stealing from the small and weak state of Usito, had hired us to bolster their forces as well as have the ability to deny involvement if things went to shit.

"Things went to shit," Larry muttered to me after a continued silence over the radio. I was about to try and contact the Sapin squadron again when the line burst with noise.

"Cipher! This is Torero one! You must hurry, the reports were right! Beken aces are currently-" the transmission suddenly cut out in an eerie silence as we continued to make our way through dense clouds towards the southern boarder of Ustio.

"Think they're really Belken aces?" Larry asked as we continued to close in on the location.

"The local Air Force hadn't been giving those guys enough trouble for them to call in like they just did," I replied. "Who ever they are, they aren't from Ustio."

"They'd better pay extra for this," Larry said as we began to dive down from the cloud cover to see what was left of the Sapin force.

"Spoken like a true mercenary," I muttered as we finally broke cloud cover. As soon as we did, a tight three plane formation of aircraft that Larry and I had just recently begun to see started pulling around to attack us.

"Are those them Flanker's again?" Larry asked, using the codeword Osea had given the relatively new aircraft.

"Yeah, looks like it," I muttered as I failed to spot any friendly Mirage F1's. These aircraft were definitely a threat not to be taken lightly. To their credit, the Sapin force had probably shot one down, a three plane formation was unheard of in the Belken Air Force. Still, even with one plane removed, Larry and I would have to really focus if we were getting out of this one.

"Looks like they're coming in for a gun run," Larry warned as the planes continued to circle towards us.

"Stay close," I replied. "We still aren't familiar enough with these planes to start splitting up quite yet."

"Copy that. Let's show these guys what it really means to be a fighter pilot," Larry half taunted with childlike playfulness that reminded me why I sometimes thought my friend was touched in the head.

As Larry and I successfully dodged the first strafing pass of the three aircraft, the weather finally made up its mind and began to dispense rain from the large gray clouds that had been funneled into the mountainous terrain.

"Shit, there went our visibility," Larry muttered as the splotchy version of his aircraft came near mine.

"Even radar's not working right with all this rain," I muttered as the three signatures that had passed us faded in and out and false signatures began popping up in random places for a split-second. "Let's see if they'll follow us above the clouds," I thought aloud.

"Not much else we can do, really," Larry added as he followed my steep climb above the cloud cover. We had been above the gray mass of clouds for no more than three seconds when our opponents showed up and began locking on to us.

"Break left," I ordered as the missile alert went off. Larry and I applied full after-burner as we began to evade the incoming missile, loading ourselves with intense G-forces as we banked left in a maneuver that would hopefully let us loose the missile. As the plume rocketed off course, we peeled off from each other to close in on the nearest enemies six. The aircraft we had chosen to tag team began to fly crazily to try and shake us off, but with each of us switching between a close and far trailing position, it never left our sights.

"Got a lock! Firing," Larry shouted in triumph as a white plume left his plane and sailed into the one we had pursuing for the past minute.

"Nice kill," I encouraged as we began to turn around for the next enemy.

"There, to our ten and low," Larry called out, his plane already beginning to roll and dive towards the area he had called out. Sure enough, sizable tan objects were racing along the tops of the gray clouds, initiating their own moves to intercept us.

"Lead or tail?" I asked in reference to which plane Larry wanted to focus on.

"Tail," Larry replied as we took a more indirect rout to the following Flanker as the two aircraft opened fire. "The lead guy's flying is too good right now. Let's see if we can't dissuade him to bug out by eliminating his back up."

"Uhn," I uttered, agreeing with Larry's assessment. It tended to be the same with most flight leads, they'd be the toughest opponents up until their whole squadron was down. Then they became the easiest. Larry and I began to try and out turn the trailing Flanker, finding our radius' virtually similar when neither of us gained an upper hand after two complete revolutions around each other. Suddenly, the lead Su-27 came out from the cloud cover below us, violently reminding us of its existence with a launched missile. As the warhead began to track Larry, he spoke up.

"Take care of the trail plane, I'll deal with this bozo." His plane quickly pulled out of the endless circle we had been in leaving me to try and shoot down the Flanker alone. Instead of perpetuating the circle, I pulled straight up and out of the horizontal loop and accelerated into the clouds below, finding the weather had done everything except let up. Once I broke below the cloud cover and was flying in the middle of the thunderstorm, I began to search for the enemy again. Fighting a group of enemies with low visibility is nearly impossible, but taking on one enemy is my specialty no matter the flying conditions.

As I glanced at my nearly useless radar, I noticed a more persistent signature finally show up. I quickly pulled my helmets visor up to see better in the dimmed lighting and was just able to catch the glow of the Flanker's after-burner's before they cut off.

"Gotcha," I muttered as I began to nimbly dance my way over to him. The only thing that gave away my approach seemed to be my lock on warning. As soon as my computer began to try and track the equally matched fighter, it began evasive maneuvers that I had only thought possible in another Eagle. The plane sharply pulled up and began accelerating, a move that would've stalled nearly any other aircraft. Surprisingly, the jet aircraft began to climb towards the clouds again, causing me to jump into action to keep the fight in the less than ideal weather conditions. As best I could, I pointed my cannon just ahead of the enemy plane, causing them to break their course just as they were about to escape into the cloud cover. I aggressively drove my plane towards my opponent as they moved in an erratic fashion through the sky.

One moment, we would be diving at the dimly lit ground, racing the raindrops and winning by a significant margin. Then, we would be weaving in and out of the forested mountains, leaving only gale force winds behind our speeding aircraft. It didn't take long for the Su-27 to try and shoot up towards the clouds again, but I was determined to keep the fight in the rain. However, not even my cannon fire seemed to be a sufficient deterrent as we climbed into the clouds. My only visual cue that I was still behind the Flanker were two bright orange glows that burned through the gray clouds as we rocketed up into the stratosphere.

"Larry, how you doing?" I asked my wing-mate, hoping he was fairing better than me with his chosen target.

"Not too hot," the man replied, raising my concerns. "This guy is switching between incredible offense and a meager defense. Unfortunately, I'm not as adept as you are when it comes to getting behind someone, so we've been stuck with me being the prey for a while."

"Let's switch then," I suggested, spotting Larry and the other craft making sharp contrails further up in the sky. "Seems like the two want to get together again anyways," I remarked as the Flanker I was following continued to accelerate towards our wing-mates.

"Copy," Larry replied as his plane suddenly shot away from the endless looping he had been performing with the enemy flight lead. For a spit second, the other aircraft seemed confused and chased after where Larry should have been. It was all the opportunity Larry and I needed to switch the power dynamic of the fight.

Larry quickly got a lock on the aircraft I had been pursuing, launching a missile head on that surprised the targeted Flanker. For my part, I shot past the enemy plane as he began to evade, pretending as if they didn't exist as I closed in on my new target, the flight lead. They had finally recovered from Larry's exit but seemed to be caught off guard by my rapid approach. I pushed the advantage and immediately opened fire with my cannons. I swore I saw an impact on the right wing and just as I began to doubt myself, I saw a stream of vapor start to trail the aircraft.

"Got a hit," I called out as I continued to try and get behind the lead Flanker.

"Already?" Larry said, half surprised and half annoyed. "That just makes me feel inadequate."

"Eh, you can say you softened him up," I replied teasingly, sharply pulling in behind the opponent to try and get a lock only to have the wounded plane pull away just as sharply. The quick glance I had gotten while they were in my sights confirmed I had hit the center of the Flankers right wing, and that it was now leaking some kind of vapor that had the lightest green tinge to it. "He's leaking fuel," I informed Larry as I continued to follow the aircraft around.

"Hum…" Larry hummed as I came out of a tight loop. "These guys have been here a while, and with that guy leaking fuel, they won't be able to stay on station much longer."

"Bug out?" I asked, seeing where Larry was going.

"Yeah, but not yet. I want them to do it first."

"Larry, they're from Belka. Their pride won't let them retreat like that."

"Ah, you forget," Larry said after a moment. I took a cursory glance at where he was and saw he was still chasing his opponent with gusto. "I'm Belken too." Seeing that Larry wasn't about to turn tail to the enemy, I decided to support him the best I could. I continued my pursuit of the aircraft, carefully trying to avoid the volatile vapors that the Flanker left in it's wake. Just when it looked like I was about to get a good shot as the aircraft straightened out, it launched a missile and proceeded to eject it's pilot. But I had never gotten a lock on…

"LARRY!" I shouted out trying to warn my wing-mate of the inbound projectile. The radio remained silent as my partner focused purely on trying to evade the missile. It was for naught though, as the warhead detonated near his aircraft.

"Shit!" Larry yelled out as his craft produced a dark black cloud where his right wing was. The smoke was so pervasive, the entire flight surface was shrouded even as the aircraft began to roll without control.

"We're bugging out now!" I shouted out as I hap-hazardly fired cannon rounds at the already retreating Belken plane. It seemed the two had planed for something like this to happen. "You still there?" I asked, my heart almost in pain with how strong it seemed to be beating.

"Yeah," Larry finally said. "I had to accelerate a bit to get back control, but I'm still flying. What's the damage? I can't see anything from here."

"Same for me, the smoke is too think to see anything."

"Shit," Larry cussed again. "Alright, let's try and get her home. Replacing a wing is cheaper than replacing a plane."

"You sure? Will you be able to make it back?" I asked, eying his wounded Eagle with skepticism. The F-15 is one though plane but-

"I've still got control. It's sluggish as hell, but I can still move. Come on. I've got half as much fuel as you do now and the longer we loiter up here talking about it, the less time we'll have to get back."

"Alright," I reluctantly agreed. "But I'm going to see if we can't land any place closer."

"We're still over Ustio," Larry replied sounding confused. "Last I remember, they're in bed with Belka, who did this, by the way."

"Ah, but you forget," I replied, failing to keep the smirk out of my voice. "You're Belken, remember?" Larry remained silent for a moment and I briefly though his radio had gone out before he spoke up again.

"Just radio for help already, Smart-ass."

"So ungrateful," I muttered loud enough for Larry to hear before I switched my radio to a general broadcast. "This is…" I faltered for a moment. Should we use our actual squadron name? Would they know Galm was a mercenary group hired by Sapin? "This is Griffin flight, requesting emergency landing for two F-15C's, does anyone copy?"

"Griffin flight?" Larry asked before another response came in.

"This is Wessenmark Airfield, we have an open runway of suitable length. Please give us your position so we may provide a vector."

"This sound like a trap," Larry muttered. "I think we should-"

"Our position is… 79 degrees, 40 minutes and 25 seconds west and… 22 degrees, 55 minutes and 15 seconds north," I read off, pausing to look at my instrument readings. After a few more moments, the traffic controller spoke again.

"Copy. Make your heading 287. We have emergency crew on standby for your arrival. Be careful coming through that storm. We can't have you crashing now, can we?"

"Thank you Wessenmark," I replied as Larry and I began to slowly turn towards the heading.

"You can call me Klaus," the man replied. "I'll keep this frequency open, so please contact us if anything changes."

"Copy that, Klaus." I replied, trying to show how grateful I was with the tone of my voice.

"It could still be a trap," Larry said after a couple more seconds over our private channel.

"Well, it's that or eject. We're too low on fuel now to do much else," I countered.

"I'm blaming you if this doesn't work out."

"Blame yourself. You wanted to stay, remember?"

"…"

"Yeah, you remember," I laughed out.

"Shut it. I'm not talking to you until we land," Larry said like a spoiled five year old.

"Fine, I could go for some silence," I replied unperturbed. True to his word, Larry didn't speak until the lights of the runway were visible.

"You go first," Larry began. "I don't want you to have to land on a fiery runway."

"There isn't going to be one if you don't screw up. Besides, you're fuel situation is too dire for you not to land first. Now, get lined up and put her down."

"Fine," Larry said, still sounding like a spoiled child.

"This is Klaus. I can see you guys now." There was a pause for a moment and I couldn't help but think that he recognized us as a mercenary group Sapin had hired. "Man, you're plane looks like shit," the man said at last, comforting me a little.

"Yeah," Larry said flatly, clearly angry at himself for allowing such a misfortune to happen to his craft.

"Well, you two have priority clearance for all runways. We aren't the busiest airfield around so it not a problem if you take your time."

"Thanks, Klaus," I replied.

"Alright, I'm going to try landing now," Larry began. "Make sure those emergency vehicles are ready. Takuma, make sure my gear came down." I aknowleged my friend's request by dropping below his plane to see his three wheels all locked into place. While the smoke around his wing was still coming on strong, I couldn't help but feel that there was something really wrong about the way it was completely hiding the whole wing. I mean, its a huge area to cover up… Pushing aside the troubling thoughts, I told Larry he was good to land.

"Alright, coming in hot. I can't slowdown too much or I'll start loosing control again."

"Copy that," Klaus began. "I'll notify the ground team to move at top speed. They'll love that," the man responded, the last part of his message said under his breath.

Larry slowly dropped down towards the tarmac going well above the recommended speed, only beginning to slow down when he was right above the runway. His plane finally came to a halt with barely fifty feet to spare from the opposite end of the runway. However, that wasn't what surprised me.

"HOLY SHIT, WHERE DID IT GO?!" Larry screamed over his radio. Now that the plane was stopped on the runway, the smoke was just wafting up and clearly showing that nearly the entirety of Larry's right wing was missing.

"You were flying that thing?!" Klaus asked, equally flabbergasted at the sight of the one winged aircraft. "Why didn't you eject?!"

"I would've if I'd know the fricken wing was fricken missing!" The emergency vehicles around Larry's plane sprayed what was left of the wing with some fire retardant foam just to be safe and Klaus gave me another runway to land on.

Larry and I were escorted to a waiting lounge at the Airfield. Larry looked pale for a good hour while we were waiting and the bad coffee in the lounge didn't do anything to take away the stress the two of us were feeling. Finally, someone came into the room. The man was overweight, but not quite obese, his red flannel shirt bulging just enough to give him a respectable beer belly. He had a dark brown mutton chops beard speckled with gray whiskers that looked well groomed and blue eyes that were slightly dulled from his older age, but with the way his eyes were shifting between the two of us, I figured he still retained a sharp mind.

"I'm Klaus, the man who you were speaking with during your landing," the man began, reaching out to shake both Larry and mine's hand with a firm grip. "So, Griffin flight, eh?" the man began again, one of his thick eyebrows lifting. Larry cleared his throat to punctuate the silence that followed the man's question. "Don't think I've ever seen a Griffin quite like the one's on your planes. Or heard of a language where 'Galm' means 'Griffin'." Larry's already pale complexion went straight to an unhealthy shade of white.

"Please understand," I began, my mind beginning to race, trying to come up with an exit strategy. My plane was still functional and while it wasn't full of fuel, it would still get me into Sapin territory. But then there was Larry with his plane. Maybe if we-

"Relax," Klaus said putting a strong hand on my shoulder non-threateningly. "I'm not contacting anyone about this. Neither is anyone else. While I'm not particularly fond of Sapin trying to annex us, I'm not too pleased with Belka either. Most folk around here feel the same. I think they'll be satisfied if you just promise to quit workin' for those greedy Sapinese."

"Done," Larry replied almost immediately. "They weren't paying enough anyways."

"I should think so," Klaus chuckled. "I can't think of an amount of money that would make me fly with one wing."

"What happens now?" I asked after a small lapse in conversation. "I would be surprised if you had the parts to fix an F-15 that's missing a wing."

"So would I," replied Klaus nodding his head. "And with the Belken government starting to lock down our boarders, it'll be difficult to get that plane out of here any way other than flying it. We can get the parts to fix it, but ordering them all at once will give us unwanted attention, and on top of that, I don't think we've got enough money to-"

"We've got plenty of money to fix it." Larry said quickly. "Just tell us how much time you'll need."

"Well, like I said, we aren't a busy airfield, and ordering a whole F-15 wing out of the blue is sure to attract some kind of attention. Ordering the parts over the span of a couple of months time is sure to escape notice, and our mechanics know their way around a plane. I'd say that as soon as we've got all the necessary parts, it shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks. But, we still don't know the extent of the damage to that plane of yours. Until we do, we can't order any parts. So, either way, you'll be staying here a while. Or, at least your plane will be," the man finished pointing at Larry who was finally starting to get back some of his color.

"I don't leave without my plane," Larry said, looking over at the hangar's our planes were stored in.

"And I don't leave without my wing-mate," I added, earning a grateful nod from my friend.

"Well then," Klaus began, a small smile entertaining his face. "I guess you've become temporary Wessenmark residents. I'll spare you the fanfare and get down to the nitty-gritty of it. There aren't any major hotels for you to stay at, and with the time frame we're looking at, it'd probably be more economical for you two to find someone to rent from anyways."

"Let me guess," Larry began. "You know a guy."

"Sure do," Klaus replied his small smile only growing larger. "Known him all my life in fact. He's got a guesthouse that could use some bodies in it and can make you an offer that'll be hard to refuse."

"Sound's pretty lucrative," I said as I began to postulate that perhaps this man Klaus knew was in fact Klaus himself. "What's the catch?"

"Well, perhaps the guesthouse could use something more than bodies inside it. It's been unoccupied for quite sometime and may need some TLC. But," the man said quickly as to distract us from thinking to much about such a minor thing. "You'd be compensated for any work with a greatly reduced rental fee. Also, you'd be free to join us for meals, seeing as my wife 'most always cooks too much," Klaus added, finally confirming he was the owner of what would most likely be our temporary housing.

"Sounds pretty appealing to me," I said with a nod towards my wing-mate. "What do you think Larry?"

"I'd be hard pressed to say I wasn't interested," Larry said with a sage nod.

"Excellent!" The man replied with an infectious enthusiasm. "Allow me to formally introduce myself, then. Nicholas Klaus, air-traffic controller and soon-to-be landlord, at your service."

"Larry Foulke," my wing-mate said, standing up to shake Nicholas' hand again. "Also know as Pixy when in the seat of my aircraft."

"Takuma Nagase," I mirrored, shaking the man's hand once again as well. "Known as Cipher when reining in my wing-mate here," I finished with a nod towards Larry, who shot me a dirty look that made Klaus laugh.

"Well, it's good to meet you both. I hope you don't mind waiting a bit longer. My shift isn't over, but once it is, we can head on over to my place."

"The wait is hardly any trouble with the generosity you've shown," I replied, Larry nodding his head in agreement. The man nodded at both of us as he left the room, causing it to return to a silent state.

"That went much better than expected," Larry commented after the silence had fermented for a while.

"Definitely," I agreed, before adding, "And you were worried about a trap."

"It's a rational reaction!" he defended as he took another sip of the awful coffee and immediately regretting the idle action. "Anyways," he continued, putting down the styrofoam cup with disgust. "What do you really think about all this? You think we'll be safe here? Amongst these people?"

I paused and thought for a moment, catching myself from repeating the same mistake Larry had made and putting down my bad coffee as well. "Nick said that people around here aren't too fond of 'Big-Brother-Belka.'" I began. "I think that for right now, we trust what he says. We can't do anything about our situation anyways, with your plane like it is. If things really go bad, we can always hoof it on foot and start over somewhere. We're still pretty high off those funds we got in Sotoa."

"I guess," Larry replied, taking another wistful glance at the hangars our planes were in.

"I swear, she's the only girl you'll ever truly love," I teased.

"Pft, least I know my type," the man replied, striking below the belt.

"Whatever," I said, trying to save face by distracting myself with my coffee. It only backfired as I nearly coughed out the horrible blend. "Gah," I said trying to spit the remaining luke-warm fluid in my mouth back into my cup. "First thing we buy is some damn proper coffee. This instant stuff is terrible."

"Amen to that," Larry agreed, laying back in his chair and closing his eyes. Admittedly, I too was ready to pass out and with coffee no longer being an option for staying awake, I decided to join Larry in his quest for finding some sleep.

 **AN: So, continuing my trend of doing things you're able to do for you, here are some dates from the more or less officially un-official authority on all things Ace Combat related, Acepedia (Note: if you want further detail on some dates, feel free to go to the website and see for yourself).**

 **1980: The Belkan economy suffers light instability.**

 **1987: The economic crisis in Belka worsens, forcing the ruling government to amend a Federal Law Review on** **December 17** **th** **, allowing parts of the country to secede as independent territories. Part of northeast Belka is annexed by Fato, giving birth to the Fato Federation.**

 **1988: The northeastern Belken territories declare their independence on** **February 8** **th** **, and establish Gebet, with Mons as their capital. On** **May 12** **th** **, the southeastern lands finally break off and become the autonomous** **Republic of Ustio. Meanwhile, the economic crisis worsens in Belka.**

 **1991: A desperate Belka sells its northern lands to Fato on** **August 29** **th** **. Amidst a fraud scandal concerning the Five Great Lakes Resources and Development Corporation and riots against the ruling National Assembly, the "five Great Lakes" and some of the northern islands are sold off to Osea. On** **December 12** **th** **, the Rald Party assumes control of Belka, with the objective of restoring peace and stability within its borders.**

 **1995: On March 25** **th** **, Belka formally announces its discovery of** **natural resources within Ustio. The country begins an armed expansion of its borders, thus triggering the Belken War. Their unexpected attack allows them to quickly take over the adjacent territories. By March 30** **th** **, n** **early all of Ustio falls to the Belken Hegemony, with only the southern mountain regions remaining as the sole bastion of freedom. The Ustio Air Force's 6th Air Division suffers massive losses and is reformed into a foreign mercenary unit.**

 **Got a little ahead of myself there, but it's nothing you shouldn't already know. As for this Rald Party, here is some more info that I've generously looked up for you.**

 **The ultra-conservative Rald Party rose to power in the aftermath of the 1988 Federal Law Review, winning the majority vote in elections held in December. The first years of their rule were defined by widespread anti-Osean sentiments and unstable relations with the former Belken territory of Ustio. They also held public speeches with the goal of instilling nationalism in the country. With the discovery of natural resources in the southern Ustio-Belken border in early 1995, the party authorized the military invasion of the country, starting the Belken War.**

 **So, now everything is set up for the next couple of Chapters. Sorry if this all felt like an info dump, but I personally find it all interesting and vital to making a good story even better.**


	3. Making a House a Home

**Making a House a Home**

Klaus came to wake us up some time later so we could head back to his place. The sky had turned dark with the setting of the sun some time ago and only lit up with the occasional flash of lighting off in the distance. Larry and I were still relatively tired for all of the days events despite our small nap, so the ride to our new living quarters was pretty silent. It wasn't awkward, however. Klaus still didn't seem like he was about to yell 'gotcha,' and hand us over to some Belken customs checkpoint, and he seemed to understand we weren't energized enough to answer the whole slew of questions he probably had. Instead, the only thing that was said the entire ride was 'here we are' when we finally arrived at what seemed to be a large two story white farm house. Of course, I couldn't be sure what color the building actually was in the dim lighting of the night.

The property we were at was a ways from any major roads and seemed to have been a functioning farm at some point in time, but with the fields now overgrown, it was clear nothing of worth was being grown here. Instead of crops in the side lot, there was a decent sized one story building separate from the lit up main house and I quickly assumed that was what Nicholas had offered to rent out to Larry and I. Externally, the building seemed to be in perfectly good condition. The side panels even seemed to be in better condition than the main house. However, Nick's comment about how the dwelling could use more than two bodies inside it remained in the back of my mind.

"Well, I'm not sure about you two, but I'm pretty hungry. I've called the wife already, so she's made extra. Whether you eat it tonight is up to you or not, but you should come in with me anyways. She'll want to see I didn't rent out to two scumbags and I've got to get you some linens anyhow," our host said as he began walking towards the main dwelling. We followed the man up to the front door of his house and entered the warm home.

The house definitely had the 'lived in' feel to it with its scuffed-marked walls and small dirt piles near the door where multiple pairs of shoes were.

"Hey Nick," our companions wife called out, her head popping up from around a corner further down the hall. She suddenly seemed surprised before realization hit her. "OH! That's right! You said you were bringing guests!" The woman stepped into full view wearing an apron over a turquoise sweater and blue denim jeans with thick wool socks to complement her homely outfit. Like her husband, she seemed to have let her weight go unchecked and had wisps of gray hair in her otherwise brown bun. As soon as she had stepped into the hallway to come and greet us, she seemed to remember her unflattering appearance and became self-conscious. Seeing his wife's sudden hesitation, Nicholas quickly spoke up to allay her unnecessary worry.

"It's fine, Greta," Nick encouraged, waving his hand to swat away her doubts. "You look beautiful as always." The woman was quick to blush but quickly showed she had wit as well.

"Cut it out, Nick. You'll embarrass our guests." Larry and I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"I wouldn't feel too out of place, Ma'am," Larry said as he gestured to our flight suits. "It seems the only one dressed for the occasion is your generous husband." Having effectively broken the ice with our respective odd choices in attire, Larry and I shook hands with our new landlords wife.

"She might've said she forgot you were coming," Nicholas began after our introductions to each other. "But I'll bet she made enough food to feed three more people after all of us are full." Greta was quick to make an annoyed face that looked like it had been practiced through years of marriage and swatted at her husbands arm with mock anger.

"For all you're complaining, you sure have no problem making it all disappear," she quickly admonished, beginning to walk back towards where I assumed the kitchen was. "You boys can leave your boots on for now. I'm sure they're a pain to take off and on." We began to walk where Greta had disappeared before the woman started again, halting Nicholas in his tracks. "But Nick, if I catch you out here with your damn shoes on again…"

"Yes dear," the man said as he stealthily made his way back towards the doorway to take off his shoes. It felt strange to me to continue to wear my footwear. I had been raised to always remove my shoes when entering someone's home. Not to do so was disrespectful. But Greta seemed to be the kind of woman who would take greater offense at her guests being tasked with unnecessary pleasantries.

As Larry and I proceeded further into the house, crossing creaking wooden floors and passing pictures that seemed to go back anywhere between a few years to a few decades, a wave of nostalgia passed over me. It had been what seemed to be forever ago since I walked into a place that was so lived in, the last memory of such a home being my own nearly five years ago. As we came to the nexus of the house, a large room that seemed to serve as a dinning room, living room, entertaining room, and primary access to the kitchen, Greta looked up from her meal preparations and pointed a wooden spoon at a comfortable looking couch that was seated next to an antique looking radio set and a relatively new looking television set.

"Feel free to make yourselves at home. We don't got many channels on the tube, but the radio's always got good reception, 'specially at night."

"Thank you, again," I spoke up, bowing slightly at her before catching my old habit. Perhaps it was the feeling the house was giving me that was causing my old conditioned habits to reappear. Even Larry seemed surprised at my odd move. I could see Greta's forehead wrinkle for a moment, probably in thought, before she seemed to shrug it off and return to her cooking. I walked into the general area I assumed would be called the living room and made my way over to the radio, searching for and pressing the button to power on the large device.

"-erful composer Givani Nelford. And now, as we approach the eight-o-clock hour, we bring you the timeless classic, An der schönen blauen Donau, Op. 314, written by Belken composer Johann Strauss II and performed by the Wittelburg Philharmonic." As the pleasantly familiar music began playing, I backed away from the set and began to look around the house again. The area we were in had a bricked fireplace in the wall adjacent to the one the television and radio were on that was producing what was probably the majority of the heat I was feeling at the moment. The area, like most other areas of the house, wasn't particularly clean, but it couldn't be called dirty either. Just… lived in. Pictures were on top of the hearth of the fireplace and I couldn't help but walk up and study them.

As I looked through the photos, I saw a consistent attendance of two people, Nicholas and Greta I assumed, as they posed in front of famous landmarks all around the world. In a couple of photos where the scenery was more subdued and probably within their own national boarders, I could see a third person, a young girl who I initially thought was their daughter. But the later photos no longer had the individual, which didn't make much sense… unless…

"Greta and I have been pretty fortunate in terms of being able to see the world," Nicholas said from somewhere behind me. "But I must say, nothing beats coming back to this place after one of our trips. Don't get me wrong, traveling is great and in my opinion, everyone should leave their home country at least once in their life. But to have a home base to come back to… It's great to be able to come back to somewhere and claim, 'I'm home,'" Nicholas finished, now standing next to me and glancing over his photos.

"Have you and Greta always lived here?" I asked, glancing at the man.

"No," the man said with a large sigh. "We used to live up in Spangdahlem, just a short trip south from Dinsmark. Once we got married and had our daughter, Evelin, we decided to move as far away from the capital as possible without having to apply for a visa in another country. Once we found this place, we fell in love with it."

"Ah, I'm sorry for bringing it up," I replied, afraid I had brought up unpleasant memories. Clearly, the man wasn't the most loyal member of the Belken Hegemony, and I was afraid of making him talk about his daughter. I could only think of one reason for her absence from the photos and-

"Nick, I think you made him think that Evelin is…" Greta spoke up from the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow in question towards Nicholas who finally seemed to get what his wife was saying. Before he said anything though, he snorted in an effort to keep himself from laughing. I glanced at Larry for help as he was sitting on the living area's couch, but he seemed to be content just watching the situation for now.

"I can see how you thought that," Nicholas said after a moment of recovery. "But Evelin is still with us. Or, still alive I should say. Right now, she's off doing some intern reporting job with a news group stationed out of Johnasdahl just a few hours north of here." I felt a strange sense of relief and stupidity wash over me for my error.

"I apologize for the misunderstanding," I began, trying to cover my embarrassment with profuse requests of forgiveness. "I had just thought, that since she wasn't in the photos anymore…"

"When Evelin got older, she was always wanting to be the one taking the pictures. That's what she's doing for that internship; Stock photography, I think she called it. Anyways, the reason you don't see her up here is because she's always behind the camera after…" Nicholas looked closely at the photos before pointing to one where Greta and him were in front of a large golden statue that I recognized from a history book about Emmeria. "After this one. She would always get excited at a place where there was a good picture to be taken and would be clicking away before we knew what happened." The personal story put a small smile on my face as I imagined this girl running around world heritage sites with a camera clicking away at anything and everything.

"Dinner's ready," Greta called out from the kitchen, breaking my daydream. Larry and I made our way to the table Greta was setting with haste and sat beside each other, our mouths watering at the prospect of eating a home cooked meal, and one we would be familiar with at that. Traveling the world as a pilot for hire had it's perks, but eating home cooking you grew up with isn't one of them. I privately bowed my head and clasped my hands, muttering 'itadakimasu' before I began to dig into the feast. The subdued questioning glance I received from everyone but Larry proved that I hadn't been as subtle as I wanted to be, but no one was asking anything, so I didn't feel inclined to explain, thinking if they were really curious or disturbed, something would've been said.

The rest of our meal went off without a hitch and was the most gratifying experience I had with cuisine in recent memory. I made sure to ask for seconds and finished both servings with ease, only stopping myself from asking for a third helping by reminding myself that over indulgent habits now could set a dangerous precedent, especially if Nicholas wasn't kidding about his wife's tendency to overcook. As I put my fork down on my clean plate, I looked up to see that everyone else was beginning to wind down from eating as well.

"Well," Nicholas began, breaking the silence after the meal. "I suppose I should show you two your rental before it gets too late."

"That would probably be a good idea," Greta added, getting up from her seat and heading towards the stairs that lead to the upper floor of the farmhouse. "I'll get the linens, so you take them over and I'll meet you there." I got up with Larry and Nicholas as Greta ascended the stairs, thanking my foresight as I stood up and felt my gut shift with the food I had eaten. A third helping surely would've been excessive.

Despite the worry Nicholas had instilled in me by saying the house he would be renting us required more than tenants, I found the building quite suitable for Larry and myself. There were no gaping holes or missing windows or doors as I had feared; the building was sealed off and would retain the heat Larry and I would need as winter approached. In fact, from what Larry and I saw as we walked through the house, only a few rooms were uncompleted with bare drywall and exposed ceilings and floors. The bathrooms were functional, though not completely finished, and there was a small kitchenette that, according to Nicholas, had a functional microwave, fridge, and oven and stove. He proudly boasted he had managed to get the kitchen sink working just three days ago as well.

"So it's just the finishing touches, so to speak," Larry said after Nicholas shut the sink off after showing off his handy work.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that. I've got most the materials needed to finish it up, I just haven't had the time. But, with you two here for the foreseeable future, I'm sure this place might even be finished up before New Years."

"I'd better not find out you're stalling on repairing our planes just so we can finish up this house," I teased.

"Why, the thought never crossed my mind," Nicholas replied with a friendly smile. Our conversation stopped as Greta came into the house and wiped her feet on the impromptu rug made of a cardboard refrigerator box.

"You sure you two are fine out here? We have a spare room back in the house and the couch is wide enough to sleep on."

"We're fine, ma'am," Larry replied quickly. I spoke up as well, not wanting it to sound like we didn't appreciate her offer.

"We wouldn't want to trouble you any more than we have and we'll have to break this house in sooner or later. I feel that once we sleep here, we'll be more compelled to fix this place up out of pride for our place of dwelling." After a beat of silence from the woman, she smiled like she had heard some very good news.

"I like these two, Nick." Finally moving from her spot, she headed towards the bedrooms down a hallway while Nicholas chuckled for his position near the sink.

"Well, you got her stamp of approval so I guess it's official now. We'll talk money tomorrow, but tonight, you guy's feel free to get some sleep. I'll be around sometime after noon. I'm sure you'll be up by then." Just as Larry and I finished shaking hands with the man one last time, his wife came back out from the hallway and stood waiting for her husband at the door.

"Thank you both, again," Larry said for the both of us as the two stepped out the house.

"Don't fret about it," Greta said as she nodded and closed the door. As silence came over the empty house, I began to feel sleepiness hit me again, no longer having any distractions to keep me awake.

"Bed?" Larry asked, his eyelids clearly showing what he would do regardless of my answer.

"Bed." I confirmed, following him down the hallway to our respective rooms. Mine was further down the hallway than his, and I found that Greta had placed the sheets on the bed in a neat stack. After a lazy attempt at covering the mattress with a fitted sheet, I settled with the half finished job and just flopped onto the bed, no bothering to put any more of the covers on.

I woke up the next morning with sunlight filtering into the room through some tree leaves outside that had managed to hold on this late into the year. I groaned as I got up, not out of pain or discomfort, but more to just make a noise and confirm I wasn't in some strange dream. I caught a whiff of my own body and quickly confirmed I wasn't in some dreamland. Nothing that unpleasant would appear even in my worst nightmares. I stood up and stretched, my hands almost reaching the ceiling as I extended my arms above my head. But that was only the beginning.

I breathed in deeply as I dared, trying not to smell myself while I performed my morning stretches. I had been surprised when I began living on my own at how many people don't do morning exercises. I had always been told as a child that in order to make the most of one's day, they must start by awakening not only their mind, but body as well. After my morning ritual was complete, I made my way out to the hallway and towards the bathroom, passing Larry's room and hearing his loud snoring that didn't seem to indicate he'd be waking anytime soon. Well, that would work for me. Long showers are always enjoyable, and I could claim any shortage of warm water was due to the incomplete nature of our housing.

True to his word, Nicholas came by later in the day with some food as well as some paperwork. While he claimed he wasn't worried about us not paying him, he was concerned about what the Belken government might try to do if they found 'undocumented aliens' on his property. After signing some forums that looked like they had been obtained by shady means, we signed much more legitimate papers officially recognizing us as renters of Nicholas uncompleted house. As Larry and I consumed the sandwiches he brought over for us, he glanced at our flight suits.

"I suppose we'll have to do something about these," Larry said, catching the man's sidelong look.

"While fashion trends aren't something I typically keep track of, I can guarantee that those would stick out rather badly," Nicholas joked. "I'll have Greta pick some more inconspicuous clothes for you later this evening."

"That would be appreciated," I commented as I finished swallowing a bite of my third sandwich. Skipping breakfast had made me rather hungry and I was compensating for it now with another round of what I assumed to be Greta's excellent culinary skills. "I would also like to discuss another thing we'll need picked up, if it's not too much trouble." Proving my earlier thoughts about his sharp mind, Nicholas spoke up with a large smile.

"Again, I may not be as 'in' with societal norms as you younger folk, but I think it'd be rather odd for my wife to request an F-15 wing out of nowhere." I smiled sheepishly as Nick continued. "I checked with our mechanics this morning and they finished appraising the damage on your F-15," the man said turning to Larry. My wing-mate quickly got a concerned look in his eyes like we had jumped into a conversation about an ill family member. "It's bad, but fixable. We already put in an order for the most generic parts, but they won't be coming in until the middle of December. Once they do, we'll place another order for more specialized parts. The plan is to order the most telling parts right at the end to give you the best opportunity to get out of here before anyone becomes overly suspicious. With the repairs that are planned, it's looking like we'll be done by April of next year." Larry looked concerned, but relieved.

"That's good to hear," Larry told Nicholas as he took a sip of his water. "So," he said putting down his glass with a determined look. "I guess that gives us until April to finish up this house, then."

"I guess so," our landlord replied with a growing smile.

"Alright then," I piped up, finishing my sandwich. "What's first on the list?"

* * *

"Kanpai!" I shouted with Larry as we toasted each other with our beers. Today had been quite the workload with us finally finishing the up the remaining ceilings in the house. Over the last week, we had completed the ceilings of three rooms with sporadic work on some of the drywall while we were idle and waiting for things to dry.

"Gah," Larry said after a large swig of amber liquid and a quick shake of his head. "Been a while since I've been out drinking like this," he continued looking down at the beer mug in his hand. While we may not have been inside the 'true' boundaries of Belka, this place could certainly fool anyone who had been inside it for a few rounds of drinks. The large steins we drank from, the clack of billiards balls bouncing off each other over some ethnic music and the various memorabilia on the walls and ceiling made the place feel like a brew pub straight out of Dinsmark.

"Probably haven't been to a bar like this since the beginning of that Sapin job," I commented, taking another drink from my large glass. With the size of this thing, it would probably end up being the first and last drink of the night for me. Unlike Larry, I tried to make an effort to remember the nights I drank.

"Heh," Larry laughed mildly. "I think I remember that," my drinking partner said with a distant smile coming to his face. Great, so he did remember that night. Then he should realize how stupid it would be to try and do something like that again. "Bet I can do better tonight," he said with a growing grin as he took another aggressive drink from his stein.

"Larry, you are remembering that night correctly, yes? In case you aren't, let me remind you it ended with me taking you back to base with a black eye and more bruises than I cared to count."

"Hey!" he said defensively, pointing an accusing finger at me. "They said they didn't have boyfriends! I even asked like you said I should've. And then you never backed me up when the punches started coming in either! I thought you were my wing-mate, buddy?" he finished in a hurt tone. I couldn't help but rub my temples at his inaccurate re accounting.

"I guess you don't remember telling me to sand back and watch then, huh?" I asked after Larry took a moody swig of his beverage again.

"Huh?" He asked, dropping his attitude rather quickly and putting down the drink to think harder about what I had just said.

"'Stand back Takuma! I've got this! I'll show these women what a real man can do!'" I said, doing my best impression of a drunk Larry holding up his arms in a boxers stance.

"… Oh yeah…" Larry said after a few more moments. I just rolled my eyes and took another drink of the nice beer. It had a smokey flavor I hadn't tasted in many other beverages before and it was quickly becoming something I could learn to call a favorite. "I still think I can do better tonight." I slowly put my drink down in resignation. If Larry was sticking to what he was saying after half a drink, then it couldn't be helped. His conviction would only get stronger as the amount of alcohol he consumed increased. I decided it would be better and easier to resign myself to damage control now rather than later.

"Alright, Larry," I began putting down my drink reluctantly. This job would require me to be as sober as possible, so I would have to come back another time for the delightful beverage. I quickly asked for a lime and some cold water to help me with my daunting task and returned to my friend who was nearly done with his first beer.

"Here are the rules," I began, speaking to him like he was an overgrown seven year old. Strangely, the man was receptive to this approach. While he hadn't ever told me directly, I knew the man had always felt I was the leader of our group of two. He would always defer to my level headed judgment and more often than not, I would lead our small flight formations. As such, it was only natural for him to look up to me for advice and guidance in his diminished reasoning state.

I glanced around the establishment, quickly trying to see if there were any overly threatening figures lurking around. While we were in a smaller city than we normally found ourselves in, it never hurt to look for malicious faces before things got out of hand.

"First, only engage targets without escort," I began speaking as seriously as I could. I had learned that briefing him like this was the most effective way of making it stick, despite how ridiculous it looked to an outsider. "Second, if the target executes a full stop, disengage immediately." I always made sure to include that one, as I didn't want to have my friend go and start molesting women in his drunken stupor. "Third,-"

"Yeah, yeah, call for back-up when I need it. Got it." Larry grabbed his drink with renewed vigor, not that he had ever really lost it, and guzzled the rest of his drink. "Thanks, Takuma. You're the best wing-mate anywhere."

"Hum," I agreed with a deep sound as Larry stepped off towards a group of women who seemed to be on a girls night out.

"Ladies," Larry began, smooth as a blind rhinoceros charging through a china ship made for frail old women. I decided to hide my head in my hands until I was either called to break up some fight or wake up and drag home my unconscious friend. Those really were the only two outcomes tonight would hold.

I lifted my head after accepting my night was no longer about me and glanced at the drink that wouldn't be finished.

"You going to drink that?" I looked up from the glass I had been eying longingly and searched for the voice that had asked the question my mind wanted to answer 'yes' to. My eyes landed on a woman around my age who had dark brown hair that reached down past her shoulder blades. Her bright green eyes were electric in the dim light of the pub and stood out even more with her dark hair color. Her skin seemed like it hadn't seen much sun recently, but that could just be because of the latitudes we found ourselves at. Realizing I had yet to answer this striking beauty, I replied.

"Unfortunately, no," I told her glancing back at the drink as it collected condensation.

"Aw, that's a shame," the woman said in a sympathetic voice. "You designated driver or something?" she asked as she took a seat nearby. I hesitated, thinking about the most accurate way to describe my role to the somehow familiar looking woman.

"More like designated damage controller," I replied after some thought. The woman scrunched her eyebrows while making an odd smile. She looked out past me onto the more open area of the pub to see Larry continuing his attempt to draw feminine attention.

"No offense, but you're doing a pretty bad job if that's your friend," she said with an amused chuckle and nod towards my friend as she got herself her own glass of water.

"Oh, he hasn't started yet. And honestly, I think he could use the learning experience. I'll step in if he really starts to get bad, though" I added, taking another glance at my friend as he downed another glass of alcohol. "So, are you designated driver?" I asked, nodding at her glass of water.

"Yeah," she replied, looking down at the water in her glass. "But only for myself."

"… Then…?"

"It's fun to come here and just watch sometimes," she replied. "Though, I have a feeling tonight will be more entertaining than most." I glanced back at Larry and couldn't help but nod in agreement to her statement.

"I'm sure we're in for a show," I commented as Larry continued to try his luck with the opposite gender. Then I realized my own situation. "I'm Takuma, by the way," I said turning around to find the woman looking away as if I had almost caught her doing something.

"Takuma," she repeated, seeing if I would try and correct her. Since I didn't, she continued with, "Well, Takuma, you can call me Eve." The name rung a bell somewhere, but it still wasn't clicking for me. We got to talking and really hit it off. She had traveled quite a bit like I had and we easily exchanged stories like we had been friends for ages. In fact we talked so long I nearly forgot about Larry.

Well, actually, I did forget about Larry.

As soon as he came back to my mind, my heart stopped. It was unusual for such a length of time to pass without anything catastrophic happening when Larry was drinking. My face turned pale as worst case scenarios filled my mind and I turned around rather abruptly.

"What's wrong?" Eve asked at my sudden shift.

"That's just it, nothing's wrong," I replied cryptically, looking around but not seeing anything out of place. I looked over at the bar tender who was wiping down some steins and quickly asked him a question.

"The man I came in here with, where is he?" I asked, concern leaking from my voice. But the bar tender didn't see the least bit worried as he replied.

"Walked out with some lady 'bout ten minutes ago. Looked 'ore here but ya was occupied. Think he's found 'imself a ride home, if ya know what I mean," the man said with a wink. My mind began to calm down as I realized Larry was okay. I looked back over at Eve who also seemed somewhat relieved.

"Good now?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No, don't be. It's good to see someone so concerned about someone they care about."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Larry and I… we're sort of like brothers. Each of us is the only family we really have left," I said, feeling like I had to explain my relationship with my wing-mate to this woman.

"…"

"Sorry," I said with a red face of embarrassment. "That was really personal and weird and-"

"Do you have a ride home?" Now it was my turn to be stunned into silence, though I quickly recovered.

"No, Larry and I were dropped off here. I just have to call to have him pick me up and-"

"Tell him you don't need that ride," Eve said with a bright red face. "If you want to, I mean. That is, uh-"

"Okay," I said rather quickly, though she didn't seem to mind. In fact, if her nervous smile was anything to go by, my response had actually calmed her a little bit. "Okay, uh, I'll be… I'll be right back," I said as I got up from the counter I hadn't left the entire night. I walked to a pay phone in the corner of the pub, quickly glancing at Eve who was gulping down the water she had ordered long ago and was quickly asking for another. I dug some change out of my pocket and dialed in Nick's number.

"Takuma?" the voice that answered the phone asked.

"Hey," I replied, unable to keep the strange sense of both excitement and nervousness out of my voice.

"Is something wrong?" my landlord asked, clearly having picked up on my distress.

"No!" I replied quickly before calming myself down. "No, it's just, I'm nervous, is all."

"Oh, ho, ho!?" Nick's voice laughed. "So, this is that kind of call, hum?" I just sighed into the mouthpiece before ignoring the mans comment.

"Suffice to say, neither Larry or myself will need a ride back from you, so you have the rest of the night off," I said, slightly frustrated at the man's continuing chuckles.

"You got it, Mr. Smooth."

"Goodnight, Mr. Klaus." I said grumpily.

"Yeah, okay. 'night. Oh hey! Before you go…"

"Yes?" I asked genuinely curious what could be so urgent.

"Is she hot?" the man whispered, likely because his wife was somewhere near. I glanced back over towards the bar where Eve quickly looked away from me, her face turning red all over again and a collection of empty glasses near her.

"Yes."

" _Nice!_ " Nicholas whispered into the phone. "Okay, you make sure to treat her right, okay?"

"Got it. Alright, goodby for real."

"See you," Nicholas replied before the line went dead.

As soon as I began making my way back towards the counter Eve was at, she jumped down from her stool and paid our tab, which wasn't much as I had only drank half a beer and a glass of water and she had only drank… three glasses of water by the looks of it. She quickly escorted me to her car and once we were both inside, she began driving to her place almost instantly. I felt bad for making her so nervous and began to say so.

"Look, if you don't want-"

"No, it's not that!" she quickly said cutting me off. "It's not like that," she repeated a little more calmly. "It's just, well, I haven't been to my place down here in a while. Actually… if I'm being honest… my parents are still there." I was starting to become the nervous one now. "It's okay, though. They've got this place separate from the main house." I relaxed a little after hearing that. Larry and I were basically like neighbors to Greta and Nicholas. We could do almost anything we needed without bothering them, so if Eve's place was like that, it shouldn't be a problem.

As we both relaxed, the ride became a little more enjoyable. We couldn't stop stealing glances at each other and it wasn't long before Eve stopped the car.

Wait.

Two story off-white farm house.

"Eve, do you know the Klaus'?" I asked, staring at the front porch that was now lighting up in response to the car that had noisily pulled in.

"Yeah… why?" she asked giving me questioning stare I saw from the corner of my eye as Nicholas came out of the house.

"I happen to be renting from them at the moment," I replied as my landlords face lit up with recognition. But it wasn't my face he was recognizing. At least, not yet.

"Wait, what?"

"Evelin!" Nicholas cried out with joy from the porch as he came towards the car. "Evelin, its been ages since you've come to visit! And you've brought some… one… -"

"…" Eve was silent.

"…" I was silent.

"…" Nicholas was silent.

No one moved.

"Did you say Evelin!" Greta called from the porch.

"Hey Mrs. Klaus," I cried weakly from the passenger seat of her daughters car. I thought back to when tonight had guaranteed me either an unconscious friend or a bar fight. Honestly, either of those options seemed better that what was going on right now.

 **AN: Almost to the point where the actual game would begin, I swear. Just another chapter or so and we'll be flying over mountains and shooting down some Belken aces. Oh, and good job if you realized it sooner than Takuma did. Stay exemplary!**


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